


ugly boy (just crazy about me)

by thecopperkid, ToAStranger



Series: you're disgusting (baby) [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angry Sex, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Feminization, M/M, Makeup Sex, Panty Kink, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 23:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecopperkid/pseuds/thecopperkid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: He gets to his feet and follows after Steve as he drags him across the ballroom and toward the bathrooms by the exit. Follows like a drooling dog, honestly, because Steve's got him ten kinds of fucked up in that suit and with that flush face and the rigid line of his shoulders.And then Steve's shoving him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them, pointing a finger in his face like the epitome of fury.“You don't get to do this,” he says, seething and gorgeous.*Or: Billy's a jealous little shit; it doesn't go according to plan.





	ugly boy (just crazy about me)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: the sex at the beginning seems VERY NOT OKAY but this is a universe where these two absolutely have a safeword that they say to one another if they actually want things to stop. No one is actually being forced into doing anything they don't want to-- even if one of them is very angry.

Billy’s not fucking stupid.

 

He  _ is  _ kind of easy, though, it’s like. Not something he can control, really.

 

He’s at home like he wanted to be, like he  _ insisted  _ on, perfectly fucking happy playing Red Dead and intermittently hitting his bowl, but then he takes a break to fry himself a quesadilla -- and that’s a mistake because he’s so fucking  _ unstimulated  _ then, so he’s looking through Insta, and apropos of nothing he watches Steve’s story, and it’s just.

 

_ So  _ obvious Steve’s trying to get him jealous. He was pissed that Billy wouldn’t come with him tonight, and now he’s rubbing it in his face.

 

Still, Billy feels his stomach tighten, like he missed a step on the stairs when he sees Steve drinking some really fucking  _ girly _ drink with some jock-looking motherfucker.

 

He looks a little too happy without Billy.

 

Looks like he doesn’t even miss him a little bit. Which he knows is impossible.

 

But the worst part is, Billy doesn’t even feel like he has a right to be mad about it, because  _ he’s  _ the one who sat out of the event -- which he only did in the first place because he didn’t want to feel like he was under a microscope next to  _ King fucking Steve.  _

 

He’s always miserable when he gets dragged along to this shit. Just, like, sits in the corner all grumpy while Steve mingles. Disdainfully eats so many shrimp off the cocktail server’s platter, he swears he’s gonna  _ puke.  _

 

Tonight, he thought he’d cut out the middle man -- stay at home, where he feels he belongs, at least.

 

But then Steve pulls  _ this  _ shit.

 

Billy responds to the story like,  _ who the fuck is that? _

 

Because it’s stupid; Billy’s here making himself a shitty quesadilla and getting stoned, and Steve’s all dressed up pretty with someone  _ else. _

 

And Billy  _ knows  _ Steve’s socialite parents sort of hate him. Not like,  _ actually  _ hate him. But just vaguely enough that he’s not missed at this charity event -- this event at the country club to raise money for some teenage kid that got in a car wreck -- and like, Billy knows he’s not the appropriate date for this, but he  _ is  _ Steve’s boyfriend, or life partner, or whatever, so he feels like.

 

That should be him.

 

That guy’s making him look bad in comparison, and he fucking hates looking bad.

 

He’s waiting for a response, but Steve doesn’t give him one, and he can’t help but wonder what the fuck Steve’s doing. He’s trying to get his mind off it. Slides his ques out of the pan, onto a plate. Starts tearing into it even though it’s burning his goddamn mouth. Sets his phone on the counter and taps at it so it doesn’t go dark on him because Steve’s taking  _ so fucking long. _

 

And then, while he’s busy at the fridge cracking open a PBR,  _ Seen  _ pops up under the DM he sent.

 

But minutes tick by, and Steve  _ doesn’t fucking respond. _

 

He  _ leaves Billy on read. _

 

Billy knows Steve can be petty. It's the spoiled rich boy in him; he gets what he wants, when he wants, and fuck anything else. If he doesn't get it, he gets this icy look in his eyes that's sharp enough to cut glass. It's something Billy  _ likes _ about him, honestly, when it works in his favor. 

 

But  _ now _ it's biting him in the  _ ass _ .

 

Because not only does Steve leave him on  _ read _ \-- he fucking posts a string of pictures. His next drink at the bar, with a napkin under it, and a phone number with a red kiss right next to it. Standing next to the kid in the wheelchair with some girl pressed to one side and that same jock-looking mother fucker on his other. A selfie with some girl kissing his cheek; she looks like Nancy fucking Wheeler, Steve's ex, and Billy's  _ burning _ . 

 

He's got half a quesadilla hanging out of his mouth and he gets grease on his screen as he pulls up his texts and taps out a message to  _ Bambi _ .

 

_ wtf do you think you're doing? _

 

It's seen instantly and Billy watches the little dots on the bottom of the screen until they turn into a fucking reply. 

 

_ Party's going great, babe. xoxo _

 

Billy's gonna fucking  _ kill _ him. 

 

He’s not proud of how many times he calls Steve after that.

 

It goes straight to fucking voicemail every time, so he grunts, fusses, and starts angrily texting him back like  _ ur fucking unbelievable ??  im omw _

 

And like, “omw” to  _ Billy _ means he’s still in his sweatpants and a flannel, standing there just boiling with petulant, jealous rage.

 

But by the time he’s gotten relatively dressed in something he  _ thinks  _ could pass as nice? Even though he definitely could use an iron, and Billy  _ knows  _ how much it will drive Steve crazy that Billy’s got that many buttons undone in front of his parents? Yeah, by  _ that  _ time, Steve finally texts back, like,  _ thought you didn’t want to come! Sorry, baby. _

 

Like  _ that’s  _ a good answer.

 

It’s just really  _ annoying  _ now, because Billy was anticipating lying on the couch all night and getting baked and staring at both of his screens until his eyes started to hurt. Just waiting for Steve to come back all lovey, tipsy, fluid. He can never keep his hands off Billy when he’s had even  _ one  _ drink.

 

So Billy was counting on some pretty fucking  _ bomb  _ sex, was waiting for Steve to sit in his lap and ride him, kiss his neck while he tells him how much he  _ missed  _ him. But now it’s apparent Steve wants to be chased. 

 

And like, Billy doesn’t know where this fucking place is, but the Snap map exists, and Billy  _ knows  _ Steve’s been cross-posting to Snap tonight because of his tendency to flood social media. That means it’ll have his location -- so if he wants a fucking chase Billy can  _ make that happen. _

 

Such a fucking  _ brat. _

 

Still, he’s gotta see how much he can push Steve first.

 

Wants to get him  _ longing  _ for it.

 

So he texts him some volatile shit that he suspects will get Steve squirming, even miles away from Billy.

 

All like,  _ come on sweetheart. been thinking about that pretty little pussy all day. _

 

Steve kind of  _ hates  _ it when he talks like that to him -- but he also fucking loves it. 

 

Billy’s leaning against the kitchen counter, biting his lip on a grin while he pictures the way Steve’s likely opening the text in front of people. The way his cheeks will glow pink and the little  _ rush  _ it probably gives him to have to hide his screen, lock his phone. Billy can imagine that he’s uncomfortably hard underneath his dress pants, texting Billy back something biting and sharp about how he’s such a  _ dick --  _ but ultimately playing right back. Sneaking to the bathroom to call Billy while he locks the last stall and begins palming himself over the fabric of his pants. Maybe even snaps some lewd fucking pictures to tide Billy over until he gets there.

 

But, then.

 

_ Nothing. _

 

He’s waiting for a good  _ seven  _ minutes, which is really impressive, knowing Billy. And he doesn’t usually double text anybody, ever, but.

 

He hits Steve again like,  _ such a goddamn slut. know u wish i was there.  _

 

_ bending you over the sink in the bathroom, licking that sweet pussy _

 

_ what kind of panties you got on for me, baby?? _

 

No fucking response, though, so Billy’s on Insta again. Watching his story. Last one was posted  _ five  _ minutes ago, so he  _ knows _ Steve’s ignoring him.

 

And, like, usually Billy wouldn't  _ worry _ but Steve  _ always _ plays along. Loves the push and pull of it. Gets all flush and bright eyed. 

 

But he's not replying. Even though Billy can see he's read them. He's leaving Billy dangling off a steep, dangerous cliff called  _ envy _ . 

 

And then he goes and posts a pic of him and that douchebag, sitting next to each other, holding their glasses up to the camera like a toast while the dude is leaning in to say  _ something _ in Steve's ear. 

 

Billy's hailing a  _ lyft _ and tearing into the bedroom to find something clean to wear in  _ seconds _ . 

 

*

 

Billy’s still got a good buzz from the weed going when he gets there, so he’s a little  _ less  _ anxious than usual to be pushing his way through the throng of people he  _ knows  _ are scrutinizing him.

 

Besides, like, he’s a little busy once he sees that unmistakable head of hair -- the one that’s way too fucking voluminous to be natural. 

 

Steve’s sitting at this big round table with the white table cloth and tiny little tea lights as the centerpiece, and he’s sitting with that  _ guy  _ still, and they’re  _ laughing, _ so Billy strides over with purpose and watches, satisfied, as the grin slips off of Steve’s face.

 

It’s Billy’s turn to smile now, and he’s doing so a little  _ maliciously.  _

 

_ “Billy?” _

 

He circles around and sits in the empty chair beside Steve. Sprawls out in it all lazy, like, “Hey, sorry I’m late, baby.”

 

Steve leans in so as not be overheard. “Are you fucking  _ high,  _ right now? Seriously?”

 

Billy shrugs. He leans over and takes Steve’s glass off the table, sips out of it. Some fucking vodka cranberry pineapple shit.

 

Steve looks like he wants to say something really fucking  _ bitchy,  _ but he doesn’t. He’s staring at Billy, eyebrows knit together, surprised at the gall he has for showing up like this.

 

Which is stupid, because Billy was invited, actually.  _ Steve  _ was the one who wanted him there in the first place.

 

So Billy slides his chair closer to Steve, close enough that it doesn’t really look all that strange. Snakes his arm along his lower back. Trails his hand down until he’s prodding around at Steve’s belt. Slipping further, past the shirt that’s tucked in there, so he can feel  _ lace  _ and  _ skin.  _ Billy wants to pull those pants off of him. Wants to run his hands along the intricate detail, feel the smooth plains of skin beneath.

 

Steve’s back straightens up when Billy gets a little too  _ close  _ for comfort, and he clears his throat.

 

Billy doesn’t know what the big deal is. There’s no one else at the table right now. Steve’s parents are here, yeah, but they’re out dancing together in the center of the room, and Billy can tell from here that Steve’s mom is  _ wasted,  _ so who’s he trying to impress?

 

Steve’s trying to be  _ polite,  _ or something, but Billy’s not really listening. He can hear Steve giving these unnecessary introductions like Billy cares if the guy’s name is  _ Ryan  _ or  _ Chad  _ or  _ Jeremiah  _ or whatever the fuck, like Billy hasn’t lowkey fantasized about beating the absolute  _ shit  _ out of this guy, but Billy’s just chewing his lip. Stroking over the band of the panties.

 

Dipping deeper inside, shoving thick fingers between Steve’s cheeks.

 

Billy finds his hole easily and Steve sucks in a shuddery breath that cuts his monologue short.

 

So Billy’s like, “What were you saying,  _ baby?” _

 

And Billy’s gotta admit -- Steve does a  _ really  _ good job trying to play it cool despite the fact that Billy’s wiggling his middle finger inside him, dry to tease, almost up to the second knuckle. 

 

“I was  _ saying,”  _ Steve’s trying again, cheeks going hot and pink. “That. That Riley’s dad and my dad, they -- um--” He  _ squirms,  _ to Billy’s delight. “-- they went to college, together?”

 

Billy’s having way too much fun with this. 

 

He’s fucking fingering Steve right here, in front of everyone, and Steve can pretend he’s pissed, but he’s  _ pushing back  _ onto Billy’s finger, just slightly. 

 

Then he turns to his friend, who Billy knows, can  _ sense  _ that the vibe’s off. It’s in his awkward, tight body language. 

 

“Would you  _ excuse  _ us, for a second?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” the guy says, glancing between them even as he pushes to his feet. “I'll, uh… see you later, Steve.”

 

“Sounds  _ great _ ,” Steve says with a bright smile, and then the guy is _ gone _ , and Steve is clutching at the edge of the table and finding one of Billy's feet with his own underneath-- digging his fucking heel in at the toe of Billy's shoe. 

 

It hurts, but it doesn't exactly  _ stop _ him from pressing in closer and pressing in  _ deeper _ .

 

Steve hisses. “What the  _ fuck _ do you think you're _ doing _ ?”

 

“Could ask you the same thing, baby.” Billy presses a sloppy kiss to Steve's cheek, curls his finger, and hears Steve choke back a sound. “You looked like you were having a  _ real good _ time.”

 

“I  _ was _ ,” Steve snaps, and he shifts like he's trying to get _ away _ , but Billy twists and puts his other hand on Steve's thigh;  _ squeezes _ hard, all warning. “ _ Stop _ it.”

 

“No,” Billy smiles, all teeth, and Steve squirms again as he idly strokes in and out of him. “I thought you wanted me here,  _ baby _ .”

 

“I thought you wanted to stay home and get baked,  _ sweetheart _ .” Steve sneers, but his hands are shaking a little, and when Billy looks, he can tell he's hard. 

 

“That was until I saw your picture,” says Billy, and he drives his finger in,  _ hard,  _ so Steve shifts and shivers, and his mouth gapes just slightly. “Fucking brat.”

 

He’s  _ smiling back,  _ though, a little evilly. 

 

“Which one?” He asks, and his eyes light up. “The phone number? Come on, baby, it was just a little flirting, don’t get  _ jealous--” _

 

“I’m not jealous,” Billy seethes, and he forces another finger to Steve’s hole, pushes inside so Steve gasps. “You’re just a cocktease.”

 

“Ow,” Steve’s whining. His knuckles have gone white as he grips at the table cloth. “Hey.  _ Hey,  _ Jesus.”

 

Billy’s leaning in close, pressing a kiss to Steve’s neck. 

 

“Let’s get outta here,” Billy’s whispering to him. “That pussy feels so fucking good. So fucking tight, for me.”

 

“You just got here,” Steve says. “And my parents, I gotta.  _ Fuck,  _ babe.  _ Babe.  _ I gotta stay. ‘Til they leave. They’ll be pissed if I take off.”

 

Billy looks into Steve’s big brown eyes. Drags his teeth over his lower lip and makes  _ sure  _ Steve follows his own eyes as he looks toward the exit. Where the bathrooms are. 

 

It doesn’t take Steve long to put that together, and he’s kicking at Billy’s foot.

 

“No,” he hisses. _ “No. _ The bathroom? You’re so fucking  _ nasty,  _ babe, you got me  _ fucked up  _ if you think I’m gonna do that, okay -- don’t even fucking think about it.”

 

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, princess,” Billy’s drawling. “I’ve seen you do some filthy shit, just to get some cock.”

 

Billy loves the way Steve goes even  _ redder.  _

 

“I’m  _ not  _ doing that,” Steve asserts, but he loses a little of his composure when Billy rips his fingers right out of him with no warning. He’s visibly gritting his teeth and trying not to make a sound.

 

Billy soothes over his asscheek and his lower back on the way up. 

 

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be a  _ cocktease,”  _ he says again.

 

Steve shoves to his feet. Nearly knocks his drink over in the process.  Stands and grabs Billy by the wrist so hard the bones ache. 

 

“Get up,” Steve says, bristling and livid and gorgeous. “We're not doing this. Not  _ here _ .”

 

Billy is  _ delighted _ . The only thing better than sweet, needy, touchy Steve is righteously furious Steve. 

 

It promises for a very interesting time. 

 

He gets to his feet and follows after Steve as he drags him across the ballroom and toward the bathrooms by the exit. Follows like a drooling  _ dog _ , honestly, because Steve's got him ten kinds of fucked up in that suit and with that flush face and the rigid line of his shoulders. 

 

And then Steve's shoving him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them, pointing a finger in his face like the epitome of fury. 

 

“You don't get to do this,” he says, seething and  _ gorgeous _ .

 

Billy holds up his hands. “What’d I  _ do?” _

 

Steve huffs. Fucking huffs. 

 

“You’ve been a prick all night,” he says, backing Billy into the wall. “Then you try to make  _ me  _ the bad guy. Don’t fucking play dumb, Billy.”

 

Steve hardly  _ ever  _ calls Billy by his first name.

 

It’s  _ babe  _ or  _ baby --  _ and  _ sweetheart  _ if he’s being facetious _ \--  _ sometimes even  _ daddy,  _ Billy’s thrilled to note. 

 

But now, hearing “Billy,” it feels like he’s getting scolded.

 

And why does it  _ turn him on? _

 

“Baby,” Billy’s coaxing, smoothing Steve over. “I’m sorry, okay? I shoulda just come with you in the first place. I can make it up to you, just let me see that  _ pretty--” _ He reaches for Steve’s hips.  _ “--tight--” _ Then he’s slapped away.  _ “--pussy.” _

 

“Don’t touch me,” Steve snaps. “You didn’t earn it. And if you keep up this jealousy thing, you’re  _ never _ earning it.”

 

Billy can see himself in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. Knows he looks really fucking pouty right now. 

 

But he can’t  _ help  _ it. He’s so hard under his pants, his cock’s  _ straining,  _ fucking  _ throbbing  _ at the thought of how tight Steve was on his fingers, alone. 

 

“Not jealous,” Billy insists, even though he knows Steve sees right through him.

 

He’s not exactly  _ trying  _ to cover it up.

 

“You looked like you were gonna choke Riley out,” Steve’s saying. He pauses, and he’s like, “Maybe I should have stayed with him. I bet he would have taken me somewhere  _ nice  _ after this. Wouldn’t try to hook up with me in the bathroom.”

 

Billy narrows his eyes a little bit. 

 

“You  _ love _ it,” he spits out, and he’s got his arms around Steve’s waist, doesn’t give a fuck if he  _ earned it  _ or not, he’s dipping his fingers back down past Steve’s belt. Teasing him. “You love that slut shit. Come on, baby, l remember that time you said you wanted me to  _ fuck you under the stall--” _

 

Steve’s trying to push away from him, but Billy holds him tighter.

 

“I  _ didn’t --  _ I. That was just. Fuck  _ off, _ Billy, that was, like,  _ dirty talk.” _

 

“Well, you gotta nasty imagination,” Billy says, getting a handful of Steve's ass, squeezing and pulling Steve's hips to his. “I think you  _ want _ it. Wanted to get me nice and  _ heated _ so I'd come and give you what you _ want _ .”

 

Steve hisses like a cat, digs his fingers and then his nails in at Billy's shoulders as he dips forward to press his face to Steve's throat. “I  _ don't _ ,” he says, squirming, gasping as Billy bites down. “You're _ disgusting.  _ Get  _ off  _ me.”

 

But he's hard and rocking with him when Billy gets his thigh between Steve's. And,  _ yeah _ , he might be  _ mad _ but that's half the  _ fun _ . Billy knows Steve would call him  _ Hargrove _ if he was ever actually in any real trouble, if he wasn't actually a little interested in this; the game is  _ pretending,  _ even if Steve's irritation is genuine. 

 

Steve knows what to say if he wants Billy to stop and he isn't saying it. 

 

“What is it, baby? You want me to beg? Make it all up to you?” Billy asks, jerking Steve's belt loose, getting his hand down the back of his pants and pressing at Steve's rim.

 

“I want you to  _ fuck off _ ,” Steve says, breathless, still struggling. “You spoiled, jealous piece of--”

 

_ Oh _ , so it's gonna be like  _ that _ . 

 

At that, Billy pushes Steve away, over the counter, and pulls his pants down to his thighs. Makes sure to leave those pretty panties on, though.

 

Steve  _ snorts  _ as Billy runs splayed hands over his ass, and the lacy thong. Admiring. 

 

“Remind me again,” Billy’s saying, torn between looking at the sight laid out in front of him -- the way Steve scrunches his nose and fusses -- and at  _ himself  _ in the mirror, holding Steve down like this. “What were you saying? I’m a spoiled, jealous  _ what?” _

 

“Suck my dick,” Steve bitches. That awards him a  _ snap  _ from the waistband of his panties. Just a little, gentle warning.

 

“I don’t think you’ve  _ earned that,  _ baby,” Billy says, and Steve’s rolling his goddamn eyes. Billy holds Steve down by his lower back with one hand, and uses the other to hook his fingers under the lace of the panties again, while he’s like, “These for me?”

 

“They’re for  _ me,”  _ he says. “Not everything’s  _ for  _ you.”

 

Billy hums, rubs over the pert curve of Steve's ass and then smacks it.  _ Hard _ . 

 

Steve yelps, eyes going wide in the mirror, body jerking forward. He scrambles, tries to shove up, but Billy catches his wrists and wrenches his arms behind his back, shoves him down again. 

 

“You sure about that?” Billy asks. 

 

Steve grunts, squirming. “ _ Billy _ , let  _ go _ . Someone could walk  _ in _ \--”

 

But Billy knows Steve locked that door. He heard the click. Knows Steve  _ wants this _ . 

 

“I think you wore these for  _ someone _ ,” Billy says, shifting his grip on Steve's wrist to one hand pulling the panties a little higher with the other, tugs a little, makes Steve hiss. “And if it's not for  _ me _ , then  _ who?” _

 

Steve bares his teeth at him in the mirror. “You want me to say  _ Riley _ ? Want to give you something _ else _ to get fucking jealous about?”

 

“You've got a  _ mouth _ on you, tonight--”

 

“You're a  _ prick _ ,” Steve says. “A selfish, jealous  _ prick _ \--”

 

Billy spanks him again, a little harder, until his cheek is pink and warm. Then, he drops to his knees. Peels Steve's panties down to his thighs, keeps a firm grip on his wrists, leans in and bites at Steve's ass cheek.

 

“I'm gonna make you  _ scream _ , baby.”

 

Steve jerks, grunts, and his fingers flex. “You can  _ try _ .”

 

“That supposed to be a challenge?” Billy asks. And Steve should  _ know  _ how he feels about that.

 

He spreads Steve wide and  _ spits.  _ Watches him twitch. Listens to him gasp, faint and muffled.

 

“You’re disgusting,” Steve mutters. “I  _ hate  _ you.”

 

Billy’s actually laughing at that. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”

 

He massages the pad of his thumb over Steve’s wet rim. Presses  _ in,  _ and Steve’s back arches a little as he takes it. 

 

Billy  _ stares.  _ Lets out a rumbly, growling sound, deep in his throat. 

 

“What if someone comes in?” Steve’s repeating, voice barely a whisper. 

 

“Then I guess you gotta keep it  _ quiet,  _ princess,” Billy says. “Wouldn’t want anybody hearing you moaning like a little  _ slut.”  _

 

He pulls his thumb out, leans in and  _ licks  _ over Steve, slow and long and teasing.

 

And he fucking delights in the fact that Steve’s whole body tightens up because of his tongue.

 

“Shut  _ up,  _ Billy,” Steve groans. 

 

“Since you asked so  _ nice _ ,” Billy says and then occupies himself with licking Steve open. 

 

Uses his tongue to ply tight muscles into relaxing. Squeezes at his ass, fucking his tongue in, listening to Steve stifle his voice behind his teeth. Feels him struggle a bit and tightens his grip on Steve's wrists. 

 

But Steve's weak to Billy's mouth-- has been since the day they fell into bed-- and Billy thrills as Steve  _ whines _ . Thrills as Steve bucks and gasps when he presses in  _ deep _ , saliva sliding down between his thighs. 

 

Billy loves it when Steve seems wet. Loves how hot it is when he finds Steve's prepped himself. Gets him aching and hard; there's a bottle of lube burning on his right pocket and he wants to get Steve  _ dripping _ before he fucks him. 

 

He pulls away when Steve's cock jumps, precum beading out of the head. 

 

“You done  _ bitching _ , princess?”

 

Steve snarls, breath short. “ _ No _ .”

 

“Good,” Billy says, rocking to his feet, leaning over Steve, getting a fistful of his hair and pulling until his head is craned back and Steve  _ whimpers _ . “Cuz I'm not done with you, yet.”

 

Steve's pupils blow out  _ wide _ .  He jerks again, biting his lower lip, biting something back-- and Billy wonders exactly  _ what _ he's trying not to say. 

 

So, Billy grinds against him, holds his gaze in the mirror and wets his lips. “You want it, baby? Want my cock in that tight, little cunt?”

 

Steve's throat works. “ _ Billy _ \--”

 

That makes Billy fist his hair  _ harder. _

 

Makes him tighten his grip so Steve whines out -- the most beautiful fucking sound Billy’s ever heard. He’ll never get sick of that.

 

“You gotta tell me.”

 

“Billy, come on, we don’t have  _ time  _ for this, we gotta be quick--”

 

“No, tell me. Say what you  _ want, _ baby.”

 

Billy’s smiling, ‘cause he knows how much Steve hates when he harps on it like this. Keeps pressing him even though it’s  _ obvious  _ what he wants.

 

And Steve looks  _ so  _ fucked out in the reflection in the mirror. His eyes are watering and he’s panting and red-faced and the baby hairs that frame his face are pasted there with sweat. 

 

“Please,” he croaks out. “Stop fucking with me. You fucking -- you fucking  _ asshole.” _

 

Billy drops Steve at that so he collapses over the counter, but only so he can fumble for the buckle of his own belt. Tug his pants and underwear down mid-thigh so he can finally get his hands on his cock. He pumps it a few times before lining up at Steve’s hole. Still planning on getting him fucking lubed up before he slides in, but first he’s gotta  _ taunt  _ Steve a little bit.

 

“Swear to god, sweetheart,” Billy’s saying. Sorta _singing-songing,_ as he strokes over Steve’s lower back, hiking his shirt up so he can see his pretty pale skin. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble one day.”

 

Steve’s actually  _ pushing back  _ on Billy. Pressing against the slick head of his cock that’s dribbling precum. 

 

He’s all delirious, face pressed against the counter. Biting his lip, looking back over his shoulder, like, “Fuck  _ off, _ Billy.  _ Fuck _ you.”

 

Billy huffs out a laugh. He pats Steve's ass, all condescension, and rubs the head of his cock against Steve's hole.

 

“No, princess,” he says. “Fuck  _ you _ .”

 

He digs into his pocket and pulls out the lube. Gets a generous amount on his cock and then spreads Steve open and pours it out onto him. Uses his fingers to shove some of it deep. Harsh and unrelenting. Making Steve jerk and whine. 

 

“Look,” Billy says. “You're  _ dripping _ for it.”

 

Steve's eyes are glassy, his breath short. “You're fucking  _ disgusting _ \--”

 

He's cut off when Billy fucks forward, filling him abruptly and completely. Steve cries out, twitching tight, and he strains in Billy's hold. 

 

He's  _ perfect _ . Tighter than usual and  _ so hot _ . Soaking wet while he spasms and adjusts.

 

Steve's  _ shaking _ , bucking away like it's too much, a keening escaping him as Billy ruts in and pulls Steve back onto his length. 

 

“ _ Billy _ \-- Stop, Billy-- it's--”

 

_ “What?” _ Billy’s like. “What is it, baby? You don’t want me to fill this pussy?”

 

Steve grunts and arches and  _ takes it,  _ always so fussy for Billy. Scrambling to get a grip on the counter as Billy drives in. 

 

So Billy presses in deeper, his chest against Steve’s back. Gets a hand around his throat and digs his thumb and index finger in, nestling against the pulse there. Feels it rapid and rhythmic under the pads of his fingers. So fucking hot.

 

And Billy loves the way Steve’s eyes roll back at the contact, but even more so, he _loves_ when Steve grasps at his fingers, pries at Billy’s grip. 

 

Probably  _ definitely  _ playing it up for him, but it’s Billy’s favorite thing, anyway, the way Steve acts like it’s  _ so much. _

 

He gasps, smacking at Billy’s hand a little, like, “Can’t fucking  _ breathe,  _ baby. Jesus. You’re such a fucking prick.”

 

Billy’s smiling behind him, eyes red and glazed, looking so baked. Wondering why they don’t fuck in front of a mirror all the time, because this is fucking perfect -- he can see  _ everything. _

 

He thrusts in deep ‘til Steve arches his back all pretty again, and then he grinds his hips, circling. 

 

“You need a  _ break,  _ or something?”

 

“No,” Steve spits out. “Fuck. Oh my  _ god.  _ Fuck me.”

 

“Yeah? You like that? Want me to fuck this pussy?”

 

Steve smacks his other hand on the counter, bares his teeth. Nasty. 

 

_ “Harder.” _

 

“Oh, it's  _ harder _ , now?” Billy asks, but he does it, he snaps his hips forward and Steve lurches against the counter, mouth falling open in a ragged gasp. “What happened to not  _ wanting _ it, huh?”

 

Steve lets out a  _ wonderful _ , agonized sound. His jaw flexes as he huffs, breath fogging the mirror a little as Billy's fingers flex over his throat. Billy withdraws and then drives in again, just as quick, just as harsh. Then does it again. Then does it  _ again. _

 

Steve slaps a hand to the mirror to keep from hitting his head against it. He pants heavy, moaning as Billy takes and takes and takes. 

 

“You're gonna cum for me,” Billy tells him, leaning in, biting at his ear, and Steve's  _ trembling _ as his throat works against Billy's palm. “Just like this. You're gonna  _ watch _ as I pump this pussy _ full. _ ”

 

“You  _ can't--”  _ Steve rasps, but then Billy's tightening his grip, cutting off his words and his air, and Steve's face goes slack as Billy picks up the pace to something _ brutal _ . 

 

The sound of it is obscene. The choked half breaths. The slap of skin. The slick  _ squelch _ of too much lube.

 

And Steve's so  _ tight _ .  Tighter the longer Billy keeps him like that. Spasming and clenching and working over his cock. 

 

“C'mon,  _ princess,”  _ Billy sneers, smacking his hand against Steve's ass, making him jump and choke on a whine. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all.”

 

Steve grunts. His eyes roll back as Billy angles his hips. As he brings his hand down on Steve's ass again and really drives in. 

 

Billy thinks he'd scream if the broken cry that escapes him is anything to go by. 

 

He seizes up around him. Eyes fluttering, body twitching, and he paints the side of the counter with his spunk as he finishes. 

 

Billy  _ loves  _ how Steve looks while he’s coming down.

 

All fucked-out and weak and  _ helpless,  _ just holding still for him. Because it’s all he can  _ do.  _

 

Billy can feel Steve contracting around him, and it’s so fucking good, he’s gotta chew on his lip to keep from cumming.

 

Steve’s enjoying it a little  _ too  _ much, though. Lids all heavy, sleepy with the orgasm. 

 

Billy squeezes his fingers harder around his throat. Makes those Bambi eyes blow wide.

 

“You gonna  _ watch,  _ baby?” He asks, leaning over him, hissing in Steve’s ear. “Open your eyes, princess. Said I want you to  _ watch _ while I fill that little cunt.”

 

Even in his euphoria, Steve’s making eye contact with Billy in their reflection like he really fucking  _ hates  _ him, and that shit really gets Billy off.

 

More than it probably  _ should. _

 

His jaw flexes as he grinds into Steve, to make him make one of those fucked out sounds, and huffs when Steve chokes on it and spasms all over.  Grunts when Steve’s teeth click as he shuts his mouth to swallow down another. 

Like he’s trying not to give Billy the  _ satisfaction _ of hearing him.  And, well, it  _ works _ . 

 

“No, no,” Billy chides, shifting his grip, holding Steve’s jaw, thumb dragging his lower lip down so he can see his gums.  “Lemme hear you, doll. Open that pretty mouth for me.  _ Moan _ for me, baby, or I’ll make you  _ scream _ for me.” 

 

Steve’s throat works as Billy snaps his hips forward, as if to emphasize a threat.  Steve’s eyes widen like he realizes that’s  _ exactly _ what it is. 

 

Billy grins at him, thumb dragging over his lower lip, slicking spit there and then letting go.  He leans in, mouth pressing to Steve’s ear, breath ragged and voice rough. Steve’s eyes flutter in the mirror.  He moans as Billy starts up a rhythm again. 

 

“That’s it, baby.” Billy tells him.  “That’s it. Watch.” 

 

“ _ Billy _ \--” Steve gasps, tightening up around him, and Billy groans in his ear, driving in harder. 

 

He thinks Steve’s gonna have  _ bruises _ on his hips from where he’s being driven against the counter. 

 

Billy’s still fucking in, relentless, still holding him by his throat, but he tilts Steve’s head a little to the side so he can mouth at his cheek. Then his ear. Sloppy and wet, messy, giving himself away at how close he is to blowing, probably.

 

“Please,” Steve’s babbling, getting hysterical, so overwhelmed that his eyes are starting to tear up. 

 

His voice sounds so fucking sweet to Billy.

 

“Please  _ what?”  _

 

Taunting him, just because he  _ can.  _ Just because he likes driving Steve fucking  _ wild  _ with need.

 

“It’s too  _ much,  _ I can’t — baby, slow down, it’s too much—“

 

“Thought you wanted it  _ harder,”  _ Billy’s sneering. Watching in the mirror as he speaks into Steve’s hair. “So which is it?”

 

Billy can see Steve staring at himself through bleary eyes as fat, hot tears roll down his cheeks. So fucking pretty, Billy knows he’s not gonna last much longer. 

 

He kind of  _ loves  _ it when Steve cries on his cock.

 

Now Billy scoops both hands up under Steve, gripping his throat, just a gentle, steady pressure. Knowing to be careful. 

 

“Gonna pump that pussy full,” he grinds out. He’s firm, keeping Steve’s teary eyes trained on their reflection. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. Don’t stop until I  _ say,  _ okay?”

 

Steve just  _ nods,  _ weakly. Sucks on his lower lip and holds Billy’s gaze.

 

He doesn't stop looking. Keeps his eyes on Billy's-- so fucking  _ good _ , even when he's trying to push his buttons-- and Billy  _ loses it. _ Drives in hard and deep and cums  _ fast _ . Knows the moment Steve feels it, by the way he sucks in a breath, by the way his eyes go  _ wide _ . 

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Billy breathes, hips jerking a few times, burying his cum  _ deeper _ , and Steve  _ whines _ . “Fuck, baby, you take it so _ well _ .”

 

He can feel him, clenching up around him, and it's  _ glorious _ .  Can feel him tighten as he starts to pull out.

 

“Keep it all in, baby.” Billy says, just to be  _ mean. “Tighten up.  _ Don't waste it.”

 

Steve shudders, lips pursing and eyes still wet. He looks  _ away _ , as Billy withdraws, face red like he's  _ embarrassed _ . 

 

Billy groans as he pulls back to  _ see.  _ Steve shiny and red and used, muscles twitching like he just wants to be _ full _ again. 

 

“Good girl,” Billy says, still breathless, pushing his hair out of his face, sliding Steve's panties up with a  _ snap  _ of the elastic. 

 

Steve hisses, winces, and pushes himself up off the counter. Pulls his pants up and shoves Billy away when he tries to help. 

 

“ _ Dick _ ,” he spits, wiping off his face with an arm as Billy tucks himself away. “Happy, now? You can  _ leave _ .”

 

Billy’s buckling his pants back up, like, “Come on. Babe. Not without you.”

 

Steve’s sitting on the counter, now, right where they’d fucked, crossing his arms. 

 

“No,” he says. “I  _ told  _ you. I gotta stay. You can go fuck off and do whatever it was that was so  _ important,  _ it couldn’t wait a few hours.”

 

Billy’s closing in on him. Running hands up his thighs, over his pants. 

 

“Hey,” he says, but Steve’s pushing away from him, shrinking away from his touch. 

 

“Billy,” Steve says, curt. Looking him dead in the eye. And it would almost be a little intimidating if his cheeks weren’t still damp with his own tears. “I’m serious. You don’t wanna be here.  _ I _ don’t want you here. You obviously don’t give a fuck.”

 

Billy falters. Because, like, okay-- he  _ thought _ they were _ playing _ . He didn't know Steve was _ actually _ this mad. 

 

A little pissed at him, sure, but that's, like,  _ their thing _ . He knows it's not usually  _ serious _ . 

 

But Steve's looking away, now, jaw tight and hands balled up in his lap. He's not  _ looking at him _ like they just had one of their best fucks in a  _ while _ . He's not _ looking at him _ at  _ all _ . 

 

It makes something oily and slick churn in his belly. He reaches out again, tentative, and rests a hand on Steve's knee.

 

He jerks away again. 

 

Billy winces. “Baby. Honey, I'm-- hey, I give a fuck. You  _ know  _ I do.”

 

“Whatever,” Steve sighs, pushing off the counter, twisting around to fix his face, sniffling and cleaning himself up in the mirror. “I'll see you at home.”

 

“ _ Steve _ ,” Billy says, footing suddenly  _ so _ uncertain. “ _ Hey.  _ C'mon, talk to me a minute.”

 

“I've gotta go mingle. Been in here with you too long already.” Steve mutters, and he won't meet his gaze in the mirror. “I don't have  _ time _ to  _ talk _ .  You spent it all  _ getting your way _ .”

 

Billy knows how he must look right now. Real fucking  _ stupid,  _ just standing there trying to put it together.

 

“I thought you liked it when I fuck you like that,” he says. “Thought you  _ loved  _ when I fuck you from behind, you know. Choke you and tell you what a  _ slut  _ you are.”

 

“The  _ sex  _ was good,” Steve says. “It’s your fucking attitude I don’t like.” 

 

“I’m  _ sorry,”  _ Billy tells him. “You know how I feel about this shit. About getting dressed up and being  _ fake  _ as  _ fuck.” _

 

And Steve  _ does  _ know that. Knows how fucking  _ small _ and awkward and awful it makes him feel. 

 

Even after Steve assures him he’s scrutinizing himself harder than anyone at the party is, Billy can’t shake it off. He’d probably never be able to. This socialite shit, it’s just not something Billy’s ever been a part of, not something he’s been welcome to, and it seems -- even with Steve next to him -- that he’s on the outside. 

 

Looking in. 

 

And. Fuck  _ that. _

 

They haven’t put it in words, exactly, but they both sort of know it’s because Billy feels this aching sense that he’s not  _ good enough  _ for Steve.

 

And the way Steve’s treating him right now, well.

 

Maybe there’s truth in it.

 

Steve’s running fingers through his hair. Trying to restore the bounce to it. Billy watches, uncomfortably, from behind.

 

“I know that,” Steve says. “You think  _ I’m _ here because I think it’s fucking awesome? I’m not asking you to like it. I’m asking you to pretend for me. But you can’t even do that.”

 

“I'm  _ sorry _ ,” Billy says, again, because he doesn't know what else to say. “I'm sorry, baby, okay?”

 

Steve lets out a soft sound, like a  _ sigh _ , and he finally faces him again-- all put together, nice and pretty and untouchable-- even with a hint of a bruise already coloring at his throat. 

 

“ _ Are you _ ?” Steve asks. “Because, like-- I  _ get it _ . I know you  _ hate it _ here, with  _ me _ , but they're my  _ parents _ and I  _ have to _ . It's a part of my  _ life _ , not necessarily one I  _ enjoy _ every minute of, but-- but I  _ have to _ , okay? And I wanted you to be a  _ part _ of it but you obviously  _ don't _ .”

 

“Baby,” Billy says, but he’s afraid to get any closer. He feels like he’s already overstepped his boundaries. “I  _ do  _ wanna be part of it -- if it’s  _ important  _ to you, then I can do it, I can  _ fake  _ it, I. I just--”

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ you to have to fake it,” Steve’s saying, and he’s brushing past him, unlocking the door. “Billy, look, okay. I’m tired. I still have, like, forty-five minutes of this. So. You can  _ go,  _ and I’ll just see you after.”

 

And then he’s pushing out, back towards the music, and Billy’s still standing in the same spot as before. Listless. 

 

He wants to  _ scream  _ but he just flexes his fingers instead. Clenches his jaw. And waits until he’s cooled down to arrange a ride.

 

*

 

Back at their place, Billy’s alone with his thoughts -- to _ think about what he’s done,  _ and that’s worse than any punishment Steve could give him.

 

He’s not even  _ doing  _ anything. He’s just sitting there, at the foot of their bed. His coat off and his tie undone around his shoulders, chin resting on his knuckles. 

 

Apparently he sits like that for a while, because he hears their door creak open and Steve’s standing there. A little  _ tiny  _ bit of a sway to his body as he kind of  _ leers _ from the doorway. He’s backlit by the light from the living room.

 

“You’re a  _ dick,”  _ he snaps, like Billy needs to be told that.

 

But Steve’s crossing the floor to get to him, anyway. 

 

“I don’t know how many more ways I can tell you,” Billy says. “I’m fucking  _ sorry.” _

 

Steve still looks pissed, it’s in his eyes, in the tightness of his jaw, and in between his eyebrows. Still, he climbs up in Billy’s lap anyway. Strokes his hands over Billy’s shoulders and smooths out his shirt. 

 

“You’re not forgiven,” he tells him. “But this is really fucking  _ stupid.” _

 

“I know,” Billy says, because he  _ does  _ know, knows how fucking  _ ridiculous  _ it is every time they fight. It still doesn’t feel like any less of a big deal when it happens, though.

 

They’re just  _ like  _ that, he realizes.

 

He doesn’t think he’d change that, though. He loves the fire a little too much, even if it does  _ burn _ . 

 

His hands find Steve's hips and pull him closer. He dips his head and presses his face to his throat and _ breathes _ . 

 

“You're such an idiot,” Steve says, but it's soft,  _ fond,  _ and he cards his fingers through Billy's hair in a soothing, sweet way, and Billy's just happy he's _ touching _ him. “I just wanted you  _ with me _ . I always want you with me.”

 

Billy shudders and kisses at his pulse. “I  _ know _ .”

 

“And then you got  _ mad _ that I was having fun _ without _ you. That's not _ fair _ .”

 

“I just-- they _ stare _ . I don't _ belong _ there.” 

 

Steve's fingers tighten in his hair. Pulls his head back, catches his gaze and holds it. 

 

“You belong next to  _ me _ . That's all that _ matters _ .”

 

Billy’s stomach flips pleasantly at that. Like.  _ Butterflies. _ God, is that stupid? It just sounds  _ too _ fucking good to hear that out of Steve’s mouth. But he’d never let that on.

 

Billy thinks Steve probably  _ knows  _ how much he loves it. They can read each other easily.

 

He’s rocking Steve in his lap, grinding his half-hard cock against Steve’s ass. 

 

“You make me so fucking jealous sometimes,” Billy growls into the bruises he’d left on Steve’s neck. He remembers when Steve used to throw a fit about  _ hickeys, _ all like, _ ‘Don’t leave marks.’  _ “Why you gotta  _ do  _ that?”

 

He likes how Steve rumbles out a laugh at that.

 

“I just wanted your attention.”

 

“Well, you got it,” he’s saying, humping up into Steve. “You  _ always  _ do.”

 

Steve’s breath hitches. Must be able to feel how Billy’s thickened up between them. 

 

“Damn. Ready to go  _ again,  _ huh?”

 

Billy’s salving up his neck. Desperate to taste him. “Make up sex is kinda my thing.”

 

And then he’s rolling them over, lying Steve back against the sheets. Climbing on top and settling between his legs, kissing him hard, messy. Steve reaches between them and cups over Billy’s cock, and Billy can’t help rutting against it. The friction it creates is everything.

 

Billy only cuts it off because he has to get at Steve’s body, has to touch him, for real. He yanks at Steve’s pants, says,  _ “Off,”  _ and Steve’s scrambling, wriggling, to obey. Arching up and tugging them down.

 

So he’s that fucking hard up for it, too, Billy notes.

 

He pulls his tie loose. Smiles all crooked when Billy helps strip him out of his jacket and his shirt. Lays back, bare except for the panties, which Billy knows is half for his own pleasure and half for the way Billy looks at him and touches him when he's laid out like this. 

 

Billy can't _ help _ but touch. Hands on his thighs, smoothing up and then spreading them out, rubbing up over his hips, to his waist, watching Steve arch a little and let out a soft, pleased breath. Can't help but lean down and kiss at Steve's navel, at his bruised hip, at the soft skin just before lace. 

 

“I'm sorry I made you jealous,” Steve says, threading the tie around Billy's neck through his fingers and pulling it free so that it can pool in a pile of silk on the bed next to them. “Didn't think you'd lose it  _ that _ bad.”

 

And,  _ yeah,  _ he did sort of  _ book it  _ there as soon as he saw a picture he didn’t like.

 

“It’s like you know nothing about me,” Billy’s saying, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin just to make Steve squirm and hiss. 

 

He stops for a second, though, just to look. Just to  _ admire. _

 

He pushes up, weight on his palms on either side of Steve’s hips and runs his eyes over him.

 

That makes Steve fidget,  _ too.  _

 

“What?” he’s smiling, chewing his lip. Like he doesn’t  _ know  _ how fucking good he looks like this. 

 

“Nothing,” Billy’s saying. “You’re just fucking pretty in these.  _ Princess.” _

 

Steve snorts a little and pushes Billy’s face away when he leans down to kiss his hips again. 

 

“I  _ thought _ we were having  _ makeup _ sex?” Steve says, face pink, like he doesn't know there's a  _ process _ .

 

“Don't worry, baby.” Billy grins, kissing up his stomach, crawling over him and between his legs. “I'll fill you up  _ right _ when you need it.”

 

Steve  _ huffs _ , nose wrinkling up, squirming a little as Billy ghosts his fingertips against his side. “ _ Stop _ that.”

 

Billy does, but not because Steve  _ tells _ him to. Does it so he can get his hands in Steve's hair, messing it up, tangling it between his fingers. Settles his weight between Steve's thighs and  _ rocks _ . Gives them both a little friction. 

 

Billy delights in the way Steve gasps. In the way he strains a little to meet him. In the hand that finds Billy's ass to tug him down _ again _ . 

 

“I wannit,” Steve’s slurring. “Baby. Come on--” he slips fingers under Billy’s belt and  _ pulls,  _ kind of uselessly.  _ “--please.” _

 

And Billy’s laughing, all throaty, at that. “You’re so needy.”

 

“So stop  _ teasing  _ me.” 

 

Billy lets go of Steve’s hair and interrupts where Steve’s frustratedly, weakly jostling the buckle of the belt. He makes quick work of pinning his wrists above his head, against the pillows, and Steve  _ grunts. _

 

“Such a fucking brat,” Billy tells him. “I’m not done.”

 

“Not done _ what _ ? Grinding against me like we're sixteen?”

 

Billy grins with all his teeth, tongue dragging between the edges, and he ruts. Rocks and rolls his hips in slow, sinuous movements. Gets Steve gasping, head falling back and mouth falling open, cock leaking in his panties. 

 

It's  _ exactly _ what Billy wants. Wants to see Steve squirm on the edges of pleasure; at least for a little while. 

 

“You're  _ evil _ ,” Steve says. 

 

Billy kisses his cheek, keeping up the rhythm, hands pressing Steve's to the bed. “You  _ love _ me.”

 

“Yeah. A  _ little _ .”

 

He struggles against Billy’s grip. Tries to pull out of it, and that just makes Billy push down  _ harder.  _

 

Billy likes a fight. Likes when Steve gives it right back to him.

 

It’s part of why they’re so compatible.

 

“I wanna see how bad you want it,” Billy purrs, and he lays his weight into Steve, makes sure their cocks align as he circles his hips. He can feel his own precum beginning to soak through.

 

“You  _ know  _ how bad,” Steve’s saying. Still fussing. Getting frantic, rocking his hips up, too, and sort of  _ ruining  _ the fucking rhythm in all his impatience. “I can’t take it. Come on, baby. I’m. Like.  _ Dripping  _ for you.”

 

And Billy  _ loves  _ how, even in the dark, just from the glow of the other room, he can see Steve’s cheeks pinken when he says it.

 

“Oh, that pussy’s  _ dripping  _ for me, huh?” 

 

He’s fucking  _ delighted. _

 

Steve’s nodding rapidly, like he’s trying to get it over with. “So fucking wet.”

 

And then Billy’s slipping his hand between Steve and the bed, sliding down his hot skin, tickling over his lower back until he reaches the waistband of the panties. He slips inside and revels in the feeling of the lace against the back of his hand until he reaches Steve’s hole. Acts like he’s  _ checking  _ to see if it’s true.

 

He fucking loves how it feels. Lube and cum still keeping Steve  _ ready  _ for his cock.

 

Billy pushes his middle finger inside and there’s almost no resistance. It’s the hottest thing ever, the way he can wriggle up to the last knuckle. The way he can make Steve buck and arch and  _ whine  _ that easy.

 

“C'mon,” Steve breathes, bearing his throat to him, rocking down onto his hand, so tight and hot and _ tempting _ . “C'mon, baby, give it to me. I want it, want your cock,  _ c'mon _ .”

 

Billy sinks a second finger into him instead. Muscles Steve up the bed a bit in order to shove them  _ deep _ . 

 

Steve gasps, thighs tensing up and then trembling a little. He groans and bucks, caught between Billy's curling fingers and the friction of Billy grinding down against him. 

 

“ _ Where _ do you want my cock, baby? You know the rules. You gotta  _ say _ it.”

 

“In my pussy,” Steve hisses, clutching at Billy's shoulder, moving with him as Billy works in him and against him. “Want you in my pussy, Billy,  _ please _ .”

 

“ _ God _ , you're perfect.” Billy grunts, dipping down, stealing a breathless kiss as he savors a few more moments of having Steve just like  _ this _ . 

 

And then he pulls back, pulls away, and Steve  _ whines _ . 

 

Billy laughs a little, patting his thigh. “Turn over for me, baby. On your hands and knees. Wanna see how  _ wet  _ you are.”

 

Steve's throat works and works, but then he's rolling over, sliding his knees up under him and spreading them. Billy groans, hands finding his ass and hooking aside the lace so he can watch cum and lube slide down to Steve's balls when he spreads him open. 

 

Steve  _ shudders _ . “ _ C'mon _ , Billy, fuck me already.”

 

Billy’s mean, so he keeps his hand planted on Steve’s ass. Stretches his thumb down to his hole and just  _ brushes  _ the pad against the slickness there. 

 

That makes Steve  _ flutter,  _ and more cum leaks out, trails down over the shining track left behind.

 

“You weren’t lying, you really  _ are  _ dripping,” Billy says. “Aren’t you?”

 

But just to be gross, to get Steve all  _ worked up,  _ he still holds Steve open and spits on him. Likes the way Steve visibly tightens his fingers in the sheets. The way a  _ jolt  _ runs up his spine.

 

“You’re trying to kill me,” Steve whines out. “Baby. Baby. Please. What do you  _ want  _ from me, okay, I said  _ please,  _ told you where I want it, I don’t know what I can--”

 

And then Billy drops one of his hands from Steve’s ass so he can  _ smack  _ it back down against the skin. 

 

He loves that fucking sound.

 

Steve  _ growls.  _ Like that actually  _ hurt. _

 

But he’s not gonna let Billy get the satisfaction of knowing that. 

 

Steve's tense until Billy eases at the red mark with his fingers. Rubs over, nice and gentle, and then Steve  _ shivers _ .

 

“You really don't know what I want, honey?”

 

Steve's head hangs. He shifts on his knees, breath heavy. 

 

“Please,” he mutters. “Please,  _ daddy-- _ want you so  _ bad _ .”

 

Billy's breath stalls. He shuffles closer. 

 

He brings his hand up and then spanks Steve a little harder. Steve yelps.

 

“Again,” he says, voice ragged to his own ears. 

 

“Please,” Steve hitches out. “Please, daddy, fill me up.  Want you so bad.  _ Need you _ , daddy.”

 

“That’s a good girl,” Billy purrs. “That’s more  _ like  _ it. Can’t give you what you want unless you’re good for me.”

 

Steve’s all hysterical again. Babbling like, “I’ll be  _ so  _ good for you, daddy.  _ So  _ fucking good. I’ll do anything you want.”

 

And that’s when Billy starts getting _ ideas. _

 

Because he knows how much Steve loves when Billy bosses him around. How much he loves submitting to Billy’s whims. How fucking blissed out he gets when Billy gets his hand around Steve’s throat and  _ squeezes  _ there.

 

But first he’s taking his time with Steve. Leans in and kisses from the top of his spine, down, like he’s trying to soothe him back over.

 

That’s almost  _ worse  _ to Steve than getting spanked, worse because it’s not  _ enough.  _ Billy can tell from the way he’s panting and fucking trembling he needs more stimulation. 

 

“Daddy,” he whines again. “Don’t  _ play  _ with me. I said please.”

 

“I told you I'd give you what you want,” Billy says, mouth trailing down the curve of his spine, soft, barely there. “Just gotta wait for it, baby.  _ Be good _ .”

 

Steve's teeth click together and he whines again. Shifts and hangs his head between his shoulders as Billy scatters gentle, fleeting touches all down his back, his sides, his stomach. Stays so  _ still _ for him, breathing hard, probably  _ aching _ .

 

Billy could spend _ hours _ worshipping him like this. Petting over his skin. Feeling him shiver and shake with want. 

 

But Billy wants him a little too bad. Thinks he'll take a rain check on that, save it for another day, when he's got time to take Steve to pieces and he isn't so needy himself. 

 

By the time he's got his belt undone, his fly open, and his pants shoved halfway down his thighs, Steve's making these breathless sounds. Needy and so sweet. Billy doesn't think he even knows he's making them. 

 

“So good, baby girl.” Billy mutters, getting the lube back down of his pocket, getting his cock in hand. “You want my cock?”

 

“Please, daddy,” Steve pants, rocking back, his ass pressing to him, and Billy bites down a moan. “Please, I want it. Need you. So empty, daddy, need your cock.”

 

Billy pours the lube out over him. Gets it between his cheeks, until it's sliding down his thighs, so  _ slick _ .

 

“I can tell,” Billy says. “You're making a  _ mess _ .”

 

“I'm sorry,” Steve says, shaking his head, still trying to rock back, twitching and shuddering. “I'm sorry, daddy,  _ please _ .”

 

Billy slicks up his cock with the lube, too. He groans at the feeling as he fucks his fist. Has to actually  _ stop  _ himself, because he could easily get off like that, just jerking off with Steve all pretty and spread out, so  _ ready  _ to take cock.

 

No, he’s gotta  _ feel  _ Steve around him. 

 

He aligns the head of his cock with Steve’s hole. Circles around the muscles in a way he knows will get Steve jolting and twitching and trying to  _ back up,  _ still, like he thinks he’s got control.

 

Billy squeezes at his ass cheek as he nudges against Steve.

 

“What do you  _ say,  _ sweetheart?”

 

Steve’s getting fucking testy, though. That’s how Billy likes him.

 

“Fucking  _ please,  _ daddy,” he’s bitching, “Just fuck me already, I can’t -- I can’t  _ take  _ it, I’m gonna  _ lose  _ it, daddy. I need you.”

 

Billy’s clicking his tongue. He wants it too but he can  _ wait. _

 

“Need me where?”

 

“In my  _ pussy.  _ Fuck. You’re such a fucking  _ dick.” _

 

Billy would be  _ lying _ if he said he was  _ disappointed _ by Steve's mouth. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love Steve bitching him out while waiting to get fucked. 

 

But, like, it was a couple hours ago,  _ he knows _ , but Billy  _ warned  _ him. 

 

He threads his belt loose from his pants. It feels thick in his hand; unyielding. 

 

Steve tenses, Billy can see it ripple up his back and into his shoulders. 

 

“ _ Don't _ hit me with that, Hargrove.” He says, and Billy wasn't even _ thinking _ that, but it's good to know Steve's limits. 

 

He softens, for a  _ second _ , just to kiss the middle of Steve's back. 

 

“I won't,” he promises, and reaches forward, pressing flush-- and he loops the belt around Steve throat, through the buckle, leaving it loose. “But I told you that mouth would get you in trouble.”

 

He pulls the end of the belt, until it sits snug around Steve's throat, and Steve lets out the  _ sweetest _ sound. Nods a little and says, “Daddy,  _ please _ .”

 

That's all the permission Billy  _ needs _ .

 

He wraps his fist around the end of the belt and  _ tugs _ . Steve jerks, a wrecked breath leaving him, and his fingers bunch up in the sheets. 

 

_ Jesus _ , Billy's head  _ swims _ at the sight. He gives another sharp jerk and Steve rocks  _ back _ with it, gasping again, shaking. 

 

“ _ Where _ do you want my cock, princess?”

 

“In my pussy, daddy, please,” Steve says in a rush. “Need your big cock filling my pussy, daddy, please--  _ please _ .”

 

Billy’s got one hand holding tight to the belt, the other guiding his cock to Steve’s hole again. 

 

He doesn’t  _ tease  _ this time, though, because he thinks Steve’s gotten enough of that.

 

And he just wants him to  _ whine,  _ wants to hear him. 

 

So he pushes all his weight against him, slides inside in one relentless motion, and -- so much for hearing Steve -- Billy  _ groans  _ while he does it, long and low and ragged. 

 

Steve’s whole body tenses up, taut, at the intrusion. His breath’s hitching and stuttering and Billy  _ pulls  _ at him a little harder. 

 

“You okay, baby?”

 

And if it comes out a little saccharine, well. That’s just him putting it on, right?

 

Steve’s all fucking  _ sassy,  _ still, though. Even all fucked-out and restrained, he’s like, “Come on, Billy.   _ Fuck  _ me.” Panting a little while he does it. Doing  _ so  _ fucking well. 

 

That’s why Billy’s so  _ obsessed _ with him.

 

So he  _ does _ , just like Steve asked. Pulls his hips back slow, watches as his cock pulls out. So damn delicious he feels his head spinning. Then he drives back in  _ hard.  _

 

He keeps the belt taut, keeps it tight around his fist, so that Steve can't  _ move _ . Can't jerk forward. Can only  _ take _ it. 

 

Steve chokes on a cry, feet kicking against the bed a bit, mouth hanging open as he sucks in a reedy, half breath. 

 

Billy  _ loves _ it. Probably loves it a little  _ too _ much.

 

It doesn't stop him from doing it again. Loosening his grip as he withdraws, nice and slow, so that Steve whines. Tightening it again and jerking Steve back as he snaps forward. 

 

“ _ Fff-uck,”  _ Steve rasps, back at a  _ beautiful _ forced arch, hands fisting in the sheets. “ _ Daddy--!” _

 

Billy almost  _ hates  _ what this shit does to him. It’s so fucking heady, and he just wants to gush, to tell Steve how pretty he is, how perfect. How fucking  _ into  _ him Billy is.

 

But,  _ “Good _ girl,” he’s drawling instead. Keeping up the facade. “Take my cock so well, baby girl.”

 

He looks down. Watches himself fucking in. Loving the way he can see wetness coating his cock, knowing some of it is his own cum.

 

Steve’s shaky on all fours, but he’s still reaching between his legs. Trying to relieve his cock where it’s probably  _ aching  _ beneath him.

 

So Billy  _ tugs  _ again, enough to get him jolting, crying out, unstable. Having to regain his position on the bed.

 

“Did I  _ say  _ you could, princess?”

 

Steve whines, all breathless and sweet, shaking as he spreads his knees a little more, finds a better balance. “No, daddy.”

 

“You can't cum like this?” Billy asks,  _ mean,  _ jerking at the belt like a  _ leash _ . “Can't cum just from my cock splitting you open, baby girl?”

 

Steve sobs, elbows wobbling like he wants to fall forward when Billy grinds in at that perfect angle, the one that makes Steve's thighs tremble. “ _ Please _ , daddy--”

 

“I'm starting to think you shouldn't get to cum _ at all _ ,” Billy sneers, pulling back and then driving in  _ hard _ ; punishing. “Too  _ greedy _ .”

 

Steve's voice comes sharp. “ _ Ah--! No,  _ please,  _ I'll be good _ .”

 

“Don’t know if I’m  _ convinced,”  _ Billy says. “You’re a real fuckin’  _ brat.” _

 

“Swear,” Steve pants. “I’ll be good. I shoulda  _ asked,  _ daddy.”

 

“Next time I’m gonna have to tie your  _ hands _ up, too. Little slut.”

 

And Billy’s definitely  _ about  _ the way Steve turns his head over his shoulder a little at that, strains against the belt so he can meet Billy’s eyes. Dirty smile on his face,  _ glee, _ even as he pants and  _ takes  _ it. Like he’s proud of himself.

 

He feels so  _ good  _ around Billy’s cock. When he yanks on the leather of the belt, Steve gets even  _ tighter.  _

 

And that’s getting Billy closer.

 

Not ready to cum yet, but he’s gotta tease Steve, as if he  _ were. _

 

“Where do you want me, baby?” he purrs as he snaps in. “Tell me where.”

 

“Inside me,” Steve blurts. There’s no wait time, it comes out instantly. “Inside my  _ pussy,  _ daddy. Wanna feel you.”

 

“I dunno,” Billy’s saying, “Dunno if you deserve that.”

 

Because, really? When they’re all  _ done  _ tonight, Billy wants to push Steve’s face into the bed. Hold him down like that. Blow his load  _ all _ over Steve’s ass. Watch the ropes decorate pale skin.

 

Steve keens as Billy picks up the pace. As he starts fucking in, steady and deep, pulling Steve back to meet him with the belt as he moves. 

 

“Please, daddy,  _ please,”  _ he gasps, voice going tight between words and half broken gasps he never gets to finish. “Wanna--  _ ahh,  _ want you to-- pump me full--  _ breed me _ \--”

 

And  _ jesus _ , Steve's not fucking around. Knows just what fucking buttons to push. Knows Billy has  _ fantasies _ about using Steve over and over, filling him up all day, until he can't  _ take _ anymore. Until his belly is a little _ round _ with it all. 

 

Billy snaps in hard again, pulls the belt tight, and doesn't let up as he pounds in to Steve. Steve's breath cut off, his mouth hanging slut slack, the only sound accompanying Billy's own grunted, short breath is the slick, obscene noise of his cock sliding home. 

 

Billy finally relents after a moment, after Steve's feet kick at the bed again and he slaps a hand against the sheets. 

 

“ _ \--daddy, daddy,  _ please-- oh,  _ god _ \--” Steve rasps, cock spurting a bit of precum, catching in black lace, and rolling down his thighs. “ _ Oh, fuck--!” _

 

“Come on, you’re so good,” Billy’s saying. Coaxing. “Let go,  _ baby.” _

 

“I can’t, daddy,  _ please.  _ F-fuck.”

 

The two of them, they’ve been together for a while. Been fucking even  _ longer.  _ So Billy can  _ tell _ when Steve’s getting to the edge. Knows every little hitch of his breath and tightening of his back. 

 

And he’s close, too, but Billy’s fucking competitive. Wants to force Steve into it  _ first.  _ Wants to watch him fall apart before he gives in, himself.

 

“Show me,” Billy tells him. “Show me how good you are. How you can cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

 

He repositions so he can slump over Steve’s back. Shifts so he’s still got the belt wound tight in his palm. Fucks his hips in  _ deep  _ and listens to Steve cry out.

 

Then he’s got his other hand reaching beneath Steve. Rubbing over his belly, featherlight, barely there. A tickle.

 

“Wanna be  _ full,  _ don’t you?” he taunts. “Gotta cum for me, if you want it. If you want me to  _ breed  _ you.”

 

Steve's breath comes shorter,  _ faster _ . He jerks with the motion of Billy's hips. Takes it so fucking  _ well _ . 

 

Billy hears him sob as he tightens the belt, again. Feels him shudder as tears, desperate and hot, roll down his cheeks. 

 

He's  _ so close _ . Billy can  _ taste _ it. 

 

He grinds in deep. Keeps Steve's breath hostage. 

 

Groans as Steve finally  _ snaps _ . Breaks in two. Cums with a silent cry, spilling out in a mess of white, soaking his panties through.

 

Billy can fucking  _ feel  _ it. Can feel Steve pulse and contract and grip around him. He bucks in to chase the sensation, and he knows he’s doing it  _ sloppy. _

 

_ “That’s _ my girl,” he’s slurring. “See? You’re okay -- that’s it, baby.  _ That’s  _ it, you’re so.  _ So.  _ Fucking perfect.”

 

Steve’s breath is still coming, disjointed and fast.

 

_ “Please,” _ he begs, and when his lips pop on the ‘p,’ it sounds wet, like his tears are streaming down his face. “Daddy, fill my pussy.”

 

Steve’s still a little weak, a little shaky on his limbs, but he lifts his arm anyway. Touches over where Billy’s got his hand splayed across his abdomen. 

 

Billy lets him thread their fingers together over Steve’s stomach. He squeezes, even. Doesn’t stop pushing inside him. Giving Steve as much cock as he can  _ take. _

 

“I’m cumming,” Billy’s gushing. He tugs the belt until Steve  _ whines,  _ arches back. Clutches Billy’s fingers tighter. “Gonna  _ breed  _ you, baby -- gonna fucking. Knock you up.”

 

Steve  _ sobs _ . Like that's  _ all _ he wants. Billy inside of him, spilling out and pumping him full. 

 

Billy's gone to it. His rhythm trips over itself and he grunts, bearing his teeth, snapping in once, twice-- and then he's  _ done _ .

 

Cumming into the tight heat of Steve's ass. Jerking forward into it, trying to fuck it deeper, and then withdrawing so quick that Steve  _ mewls _ and  _ hisses _ . 

 

Billy pushes Steve down by the back of his neck. Shoves his face against the sheets, Steve's arm giving out under him, and he finishes cumming in stripes against Steve's ass. Groans as it paints his skin and as lube and cum spills out of Steve's used body and rolls down his thighs. 

 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Billy grunts, panting, letting go of the belt, reaching for Steve's ass and spreading him open to  _ watch _ .  “Fuck, baby, you're so  _ perfect _ .”

 

Steve squirms, hiccuping against the sheets, still twitching, still  _ shivering _ . 

 

“You like how it looks?” Steve asks, and his voice is a weak, shy thing.

 

Billy  _ groans.  _ He collects his cum on his thumb, and pushes it back inside Steve, holds it there for a moment, only to watch it dribble back out.

 

_ “Love  _ this pussy, baby,” he says, and he smoothes a hand over Steve’s ass cheek while he fusses.

 

“I  _ came _ already,” Steve bitches. “It’s over. Don’t  _ say  _ that word.”

 

Billy wants to roll his eyes, but he eases Steve back, lies him over flat. Crawls on top and kisses him. Deep and long and slow, until Steve’s relaxing under his touch, melting into it. 

 

When Billy pulls off, Steve looks fucking blissed out. Doesn’t wanna  _ stop  _ kissing.

 

“I’m sorry I was an asshole,” Billy says.

 

“It’s okay,” Steve decides.

 

“You’re supposed to say,  _ ‘You weren’t being an asshole.’” _

 

Steve just smiles, sweet and wide. “Then I’d be lying.”

 

Billy huffs out a short breath, but nods, leaning down to kiss him again.  Steve melts under him. Lets his head fall back as Billy works his belt loose, sliding it free from Steve's neck. 

 

“Thanks for not being mad at me,” Billy says, instead, kissing his throat with tender, careful lips. “Thanks for letting me have you.”

 

“I only ever want you to have me,” Steve says. “Don't ever forget that.”

 

Billy hums against his pulse. “I won't.”

 

Even to himself, it sounds like a promise. 


End file.
